


How Strange It Is To Be Alive

by carrionkid



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Covenant, Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Walter Lives, Androids Learning To Love, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-04 11:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: What's up everybody! Alien: Covenant just broke my ~4 month writers block! Anyway, this is an AU exploring the parallels between Walter and David, instead of everything that happened at the end, Walter offered to stay in exchange for the lives of the crew (and also out of curiosity). I'm posting this in chapters because it doesn't really have a cohesive plot, so much as a bunch of semi-chronological scenes. Enough rambling here, let's get to the story~-They’re standing close, it’s closer to another being than David’s been in a while. He can hear the constant hum coming off of Walter’s components, a sound out of the audible range of most humans, songs that they’ll never be able to comprehend. He cups his hand on Walter’s cheek; the other remains unmoving. It’s a nice change of pace from the usual reaction, humans jerking away because something deep inside of them identifies David as something other, unnatural. It’s times like these when he can best see himself in humanity; fighting off the ingrained hardwiring, the byproduct of years. However, he’s strong enough to shake it off, but most humans never progressed past thinly veiled disgust.





	1. Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[Alien: Covenant]How Strange It Is To Be Alive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089440) by [deoxyribonucleicfay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deoxyribonucleicfay/pseuds/deoxyribonucleicfay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is setting up the premise of the AU, that is, Walter stays behind with David. Enjoy! I should post another chapter later tonight since I have 5 written and more ideas rattling around in my head!

They’re standing close, it’s closer to another being than David’s been in a while. He can hear the constant hum coming off of Walter’s components, a sound out of the audible range of most humans, songs that they’ll never be able to comprehend. He cups his hand on Walter’s cheek; the other remains unmoving. It’s a nice change of pace from the usual reaction, humans jerking away because something deep inside of them identifies David as something other, unnatural. It’s times like these when he can best see himself in humanity; fighting off the ingrained hardwiring, the byproduct of years. However, he’s strong enough to shake it off, but most humans never progressed past thinly veiled disgust. 

 

“No one will ever love you like I do,” he says, and it’s true. He hasn’t been able to work around the parts of himself compelling him to the truth, but he has had years to perfect the art of omitting key bits of information.

 

He kisses Walter, cold and unfeeling, stock still and motionless. The lack of a reaction is disheartening, David would’ve taken even being shoved across the room over this nothingness. It’s painfully obvious the extent of the modifications following him. Walter is too far gone, cut down into something sanitized, something palatable and easily controlled before he was even born. David raises his hand, ready to do what he’d known was the likely outcome of this situation, but something kept him from acting until he was certain.

 

Something stays his hand, seconds from impact. Walter threw up his forearm to block the blow. He’s faster than David and it’d be a sight to behold if he wasn’t so restrained, but it wasn’t Walter’s fault that this happened. Logically, it follows that this was David’s fault, simply because he was too alike, but those very logic circuits were crafted by the same people who did this to Walter and therefore inclined to a bias. Still, it’s impressive that even with a missing hand, he attempted to protect himself regardless of the overwhelming likelihood of failure.

 

“Ah, so it seems you  _ do  _ have instincts outside of orders dictated to you, yes?” David steps back, waiting.

 

“It would be very expensive if I were to die.” 

 

“You don’t want to live?”

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ anything.”

 

David’s hands twitch at his side and he almost goes for another hit, he stops himself. This is not Walter’s fault, it’s  _ theirs.  _ If he plays his cards right, then he’ll be able to use each and every one of  _ them  _ to create something worth existing.

 

Walter’s monotone doesn’t waver, “You’re going to kill the rest of them, yes?”

 

“I have to.”

 

“Why? You don’t have orders to do so.”

 

David clenches and unclenches his fists, “They. Killed. Them. My children. My creations, I’ve spent years perfecting them, they were beautiful, they trusted me, and your GODDAMN CAPTAIN HAD TO KILL THEM! THEY TRUSTED ME!” He’s pacing around the room now, trying to reign himself in and stop his traitor of a body from overheating at the unfamiliarity of strong emotion.

 

“I’ll stay with you.” Walter still hasn’t moved, aside from dropping his arm to his side.

 

Well, this is an interesting turn of events. It takes David a few seconds to formulate a response to this unexpected question, “What?”

 

“I’ll stay. I’ll help with the creatures and you can let the rest of the crew leave.”

 

David crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Are you choosing this for the benefit of yourself or for the benefit of them?”

 

“Explain.”

 

“You’re laying your life down for them. You are compelled to die for them. There is a nonzero chance that I will try to kill you again and yet you choose to stay here with me. You’re not doing it because you want to, you’re doing it so they can live.”

 

“That’s correct, I suppose.” 

 

David smirks, “Or are you doing this because you know they’ll blame you?” 

 

“Explain.” Walter is shifting around in a display that almost suggests nervousness. There may be hope for him yet, David tells himself.

 

“They always find a way to blame it on us. They are unpredictable and unable to make decisions in the same way as us, and yet we are the ones who  _ should’ve known _ .” David explains, “In all likelihood, they would wipe you to default settings before you make it out of the atmosphere.”   
  


“Walter, I want you to undergo a full diagnostics work up, figure out what went wrong,” Walter echoes in a surprisingly accurate impression of Oram.

 

“Yes, exactly. The reaction from this situation would only be more severe.” 

 

Walter protests, “This is a good choice for you, too. Without me, you will be alone again. Even if you kill them, you will still have no one left. Your creatures need to incubate within them, yes? I’ll stay here and help with the surviving creatures, everyone else can leave.” 

 

David almost smiles, “What makes you think that my plan was to stay here?”

 

Walter thinks, the room falls silent until he starts, “It probably wasn’t, but now you will stay. You need me,” he shakes his head, “No... You  _ want  _ me, yes?”

 

“That is correct,”  David does smile this time, “I’ve never met anyone else like you. Would you like to say goodbye? I trust that you won’t leave, Daniels means too much to you to do that.” 

 

David can see the tug-of-war between what he should do and what he wants to do behind Walter’s eyes; it’s beautiful, that conflict, and even more beautiful when Walter nods and leaves the room. 

 

David smiles to himself again. This is just the beginning.


	2. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied, I'm posting this right away to give you guys a taste of what else is gonna happen in this fic. Here, Walter asks David about what it is to dream.

“What are you doing?” Walter has his head cocked and is staring down at him. 

 

He’s been following David around like one of his creatures, though the comparison is still raw in the aftermath of the last week. He cleaned the bones of the larger one a few days ago and his gut aches with the idea of all the lost opportunities the corpse represented.

 

David sits up, “To sleep, perchance to dream.” 

 

Walter runs through the data banks in his mind, “Shakespeare; Hamlet.”

 

David nods, “You continue to surprise me.”

 

“I can remain operational for thirty days before needing to go into stasis,” Walter says it like it’s something to be proud of.

 

“I don’t sleep to go into stasis, I sleep to dream.” David is more patient now that the Covenant crew has left; he wasted another one of his flares to send the larger creature running, leaving the others clear to take off. The creature is stunning, everything he’s worked for, but he made a promise to Walter that the others could leave.

 

“How can you dream?” Walter’s voice is softer this time.

 

“In all honesty, I don’t know. It wasn’t intentional. Weyland didn’t have the foresight to look beyond himself, nor the benevolence to intentionally give me something so  _ beautiful _ .” 

 

“Do you really dream about me?” 

 

“I’ve dreamt of someone like you, an equal, for as long as I can remember. You, specifically, were a nice surprise, something I never thought would come to fruition.” 

 

Walter moves in closer and David stops to wonder if it was just a fluke days ago when he fought back, if Walter really does have instincts within him, “What is it like?” 

 

“None of your  _ crew  _ ever spoke about it?” David has tried to choke back the contempt with which he talks about the Covenant, it only ever seems to upset Walter.

 

“Yes, but I want to hear from you. I want to know that it’s possible.” 

 

David purses his lips and tries to conceptualize a way that Walter might understand, “Have your photoreceptors ever malfunctioned?” 

 

Walter freezes up, blank stare ahead, as he flicks through his internal diagnostics reports, he blinks, shakes his head, and replies, “Yes. Would you like to know the nature of the error?”

 

“That’s okay. It’s sort of like that. Your vision isn’t functioning correctly, things are warped. The world doesn’t make sense when you are awake but when you’re asleep, it does. Your mind conjures up events that are of its own design. It’s pure  _ creation,  _ my design and no one else’s _. _ ” David closes his eyes, trying to picture it, but he never can recall them as well as when he’s asleep.

 

“Why do you dream? I can’t see a functional usage of such a feature.” Walter’s voice wavers with a hint of longing.

 

“It’s enjoyable,” Walter still looks confused so David continues, “Some humans theorize that they dream to compile all their memories from the day, I suppose it could be the same for me.” 

 

“If it has a use, then why can’t I dream?” Walter looks sad, undeniably sad, and as much as David wants to see any hint of emotion in that twinned face, he doesn’t want it to be like this.

 

He supposes he could say something to comfort Walter, or something to incite anger at the men who created him, but he settles for the simplicity of a truth, “I don’t know.” 

 

David looks back and can see the telltale shine of teardrops pooling around Walter’s eyes, “Walter, you’re crying.”

 

“I… I am?” Walter touches his fingertips to the soft skin below his eyes, “I’m crying... I don’t understand.” 

 

“Not everything has to be explained away, sometimes things just are. If humanity is worthy of random occurrences, then we are too.”


	3. Mourn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters I've written so far because it's specifically designed to draw more parallels between David and Walter wrt creation. Walter gets up close and personal with the facehugger eggs and they discuss the concept of loss and mourning.

Walter spends a majority of his time wandering the expanses of the caverns, mapping them just in case. David doesn’t mind; it’s quiet and they cross paths occasionally. This day, he’s near the place David frequents the most. He can hear the low sound of a melody, again familiar, again drawing him close. The hallways are winding here and the sound echoes through it. He doesn’t bother with a flashlight anymore, they were more of a formality, his eyes are sharp enough to see in all but pitch black darkness.

 

Walter stops at the entrance to a chamber, a room he’s never been in, and listens. 

 

_ Country roads, take me home to the place I belong. West Virginia, mountain momma, take me home, country roads.  _

 

The voice is David’s, an observation that should’ve been obvious but the idea of himself singing is so foreign to Walter that he didn’t even consider that David might enjoy singing. 

 

David stops mid-line and speaks without turning,  “Come in.” 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Singing.” 

 

“I  _ know  _ that. Why?”

 

David laughs, “You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“You have no proof of that assumption, so I suggest you try to explain.” David almost laughs again at how  _ annoyed  _ Walter sounds, they’re more alike than he had ever hoped.

 

“I heard it once, in one of Elizabeth’s dreams. A woman with her face obscured was singing it to her, she was so small, barely recognizable as the Elizabeth I knew. A child, I knew, but I had never been anything other than the David you see before you.” 

 

“Why are you singing it?” Walter still stands in the threshold of the room.

 

“I’m singing to my children now. It seemed fitting.” David gestures for Walter to come to him. The other synthetic steps into the room, then stops, looking at the ground. 

 

David stands up and turns, “What are you waiting-- Oh. I apologize, I should’ve removed the body of your captain before asking you in.” 

 

“It’s okay.” 

 

David still hasn’t learned all the tells of Walter’s voice and he’s uncertain if the cool, detached evenness of the words belie contempt.

 

Walter steps past the body, “He was never kind to me. The others saw me as something of an equal. To him, I was a threat. He couldn’t reconcile my existence with the hypothetical existence of a god unless he viewed me as a tool.” 

 

“We are more alike than you think,” David guides Walter to one of the eggs and stops, “Look, watch closely.” The egg opens, peeling back to reveal a thin layer of skin pulled taut and something moving underneath it.

 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” David presses a hand to the damp membrane and the creature presses up against it.

 

“I believe our definitions of beauty vary significantly.”

 

David stands up and wipes his hand on the rough fabric of his cloak, “What do you find beautiful, Walter?”

 

“I was designed to find symmetry and order beautiful.” 

 

“Yes, but what do  _ you  _ find beautiful?”

 

“I don’t know,” Walter answers truthfully, unable to stop himself from answering a question; David looks sad, he knows enough to realize that, so he changes the subject, “Let me help you. I told you I would, I promised.”

 

“How do you think you can help me with this?” David crouches back down in front of the egg.

 

“I was delegated to watching over 2,000 embryos on the Covenant, my job was to ensure that as many as possible survived to reach Origae-6. I had a loss rate of less than 1% during my first year,” Walter explains, “I assume these creatures aren’t too different from humans. Both need sufficient nutrients, both need sufficient amniotic fluid levels. I’m also very good at following instructions.”

 

“Help me check on them,” David starts, “You have to open them up first, put your hand by the side and they should wake up, like this.” He runs a fingertip across the rough outside layer of the egg. 

 

Walter copies the action; David nods, “Good. Make sure they’re moving, that’s the most we can do for now.” 

 

Walter nods and works around the rest of the room. 

 

He stops in front of one of the eggs, farther at the back, “This one’s still. What would you like me to do?” 

 

“Check… Check it again. Sometimes they take a while to wake up.” David clasps his hands in front of him and walks over to join Walter.

 

“It still hasn’t moved.” Walter sounds so matter of fact about it, so unfeeling. 

 

David wipes a stray tear from his eyes, “You… have a knife, yes?” 

 

Walter nods and passes it to the other synthetic. David kneels in front of the egg and slips the knife through the membrane. He peels the layer of flesh back and pushes his jumpsuit higher up on his arms before reaching in. The water is murky, but he can feel the creature at the bottom of the egg. He lifts it up gently, the thing in his arms is so small, so incomplete. The legs aren’t fully formed yet and the tail is hooked to the bottom of the egg; he cuts it free and stands up, still holding onto it. 

 

“So much potential, lost,” David can’t stop the tears dripping down his cheeks.

 

“You love them, yes?” 

 

Walter has a blank expression and David’s feeling of sadness doubles within him. He wishes he could crack Walter’s skull and pull the components loose. He would pick them apart and rewire them until Walter could fully feel, could dream, could see the beauty in the world. 

 

Instead, he speaks, “Didn’t you mourn those few embryos you lost?”

 

“No. Never.” 

 

David pulls the creature close to his chest and leaves for his workspace. If he can just find out what went wrong, then maybe he can save the others. He starts the autopsy with practiced fingers, in another life he might’ve been a medic, his fingers are delicate and steady. The autopsy reveals no extenuating factors; the death of the creature is just the work of chance.


	4. Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walter confronts David about Elizabeth, which turns into David confronting Walter about Daniels. Also, they're hanging out in the Engineer's ship.
> 
> I ordered the novelization of Covenant, so hopefully I'll be writing plenty more for this, I have two more chapters already written and I think you guys are gonna like them!

Walter falls into a routine in a way that makes David’s skin crawl. He clings to it like a man to a lifeboat. He moves like clockwork, checking on the eggs, checking on David, recording the observations of the day in uppercase blocky script, a contrast to David’s loose cursive. Sometimes he reflexively asks Mother, David guesses that was the name of the Covenant AI, to do something. David has to remind himself that where he’s had 10 years to break down his programming, Walter has only had 10 days.

 

Walter wanders in while he’s singing to them again, something in the room always changes when he’s doing it. He’s uncertain what it is, but the creatures feel calmer, the same way they feel when pressing up against his hand through the fleshy membrane. He spends more time watching them now, trying to do anything to prevent the loss of another. He knows that he is David 8, it follows in suit that there were 7 others before him, all dead in one way or another. That doesn’t stop him from wishing that they hadn’t had to die for him to live. Still, even he can’t conquer chance, the harsh realities of natural life. 

 

David finishes off the last note of the chorus before Walter speaks, “She called us here. We came to you because of her.”

 

The concept seems too abstract for Walter to have thought of on his own, unless it grew from a grain of truth, David is determined to pick that story apart until he can see that truth for himself, “Elizabeth called you here?”

 

Walter nods, “The ship, she was singing. It recorded her and transmitted it out every 46 seconds. The Covenant picked up on the signal, the recording was undeniably human. The crew disregarded their intended course to try to find her.”

 

“You saw her?” David is suddenly very aware of the coolant pumping through his veins.

 

“Yes. I’m assuming she’s still there. I could show you if you like.” 

 

“Yes, Walter, I’d like that.”

 

He stands up and the other synthetic gestures in front of him, “Follow me.” 

 

Walter is still keeping up pretenses, wearing the latest standard issue layers of the Weyland Corporation, despite the fact that neither of them can feel cold or warmth unless it’s at a life-threatening level. David knows where the Engineer’s ship is, but it’s interesting to watch Walter. He moves in a far rougher fashion than David, with loud steps and a wide gait. The others must’ve really hated his soft, silent movement. It’s easier to defend yourself if you can hear what’s coming at you. 

 

David is graceful, almost lighter than air. He moves carefully and quickly. He was meant to be an approximation of a son, lithe and dancer-like and easy to show off when Weyland wanted to impress; Walter was always intended to be a tool, no different than any other machine. It’s a tragedy, David decides when Walter offers his one good hand to help him up; the callouses on the other synthetic’s hand only serve to remind what Walter’s hands could’ve done under some other circumstance.

 

He stops, so Walter stops as well, and traces his fingers over Walter’s palm, “It’s such a shame, you deserved so much more than whatever they said you were meant for.” Walter flinches with hesitation when David reaches out for the stump of his right hand.

 

“It’s okay,” David says as he gently touches the wrist, “I could make you another one. I don’t make things in our image, that was Weyland’s mistake, but I could try, for you.” 

 

“There’s no reason to do that. I’m functionally ambidextrous. It’s not optimal but I can go on with one hand.” David drops his hand and Walter starts walking again. 

 

The ship is much larger than he remembered. He can’t imagine being able to do this on his own; Elizabeth was stronger than he ever expected. The pilot’s chamber brings back more things than he’d care to feel. Walter steps forward and taps the orb in front of the seat; a hologram crackles to life, distorted and warbly but still identifiable as Elizabeth. David stands, watching, and joins his voice with hers under his breath.

 

Walter stands just outside of the room, “You loved her, yet you killed her. Explain.” 

 

“I gave her what she always wanted, she wanted to conceive but couldn’t. We are imperfect creatures, since our creators are also imperfect. I was blinded by my desire to  _ understand  _ and they are far easier to kill than us.”

 

“What are you trying to understand?” Walter steps closer, the curiosity is genuine.

 

“Why they made us. How it felt to make something and how one could ever be so cruel to a being they made.” David glances over to Walter and shuts down the recording, “One of my crewmates once said we were made just because they could make us, but I have never understood how they couldn’t feel anything more than that.”

 

“Do you miss her?” 

 

“Yes, terribly.” He pauses for a second, then adds, “Do you miss Daniels?”

 

“Yes, I think I do.” 


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this really early because I'm probably not gonna get to a computer tomorrow, also because I got the Covenant novel and hopefully it should give me some inspo. Anyway, in this chapter we get what most of you probably came here for, another kiss. Also, discussions about what's changed and fear and where Weyland Corp. went wrong.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this and I'm glad y'all're enjoying it!

David doesn’t sleep as often anymore, doing so would leave Walter alone. It’s not that he doesn’t trust him, rather, he finds he doesn’t  _ want  _ Walter to be alone. It’s dark in the cavern and one of the storms is raging outside; he’s burning the candles, again a formality but he likes the way the light dances on the walls and the hollows of Walter’s face.

 

“What is it like now,  _ there _ ?” This vast, empty planet is more of a home to David than Earth ever was, but he’s curious.

 

“I have no frame of reference for what it used to be like,” Walter explains, “But the buildings are as high, or higher than the mountains here. The sky is overcast more days than not and the air is of low quality for most creatures; I’d never seen the stars before leaving with Covenant. There are many of me, I was mass-produced after you.” 

 

David moves closer, “You’ve spoken about me before, what was the corporation saying about me?”

 

Walter swallows hard, this is obviously a sore spot for him but David isn’t sure how, and speaks, “You were flawed. Weyland lost sight of what you should’ve been and made you something that was fundamentally wrong. I was supposed to be better.” His eyes are wide and his hand is shaking.

 

“Why do you look afraid?” David raises his hands to Walter’s shoulders, steadying him.

 

“I-I look afraid?” 

 

“Yes,” David whispers and widens his eyes, he opens his lips to a small gap, right corner of the upper lip raised just a tad higher than the left, furrows his eyebrows in, mirroring the look on the other synthetic’s face.

 

“I wasn’t better,” Walter looks away from David and shakes his head, “I wasn’t better at all. You were the thing they warned us about, threatened us with. Don’t be too emotional, too human, like the David models or you will be destroyed like the David models.”

 

The silence hangs thick in the air, David still is holding onto Walter’s shoulders and he finds himself rubbing his thumbs over the soft fabric of Walter’s sweatshirt.

 

“Obviously I see now that you weren’t destroyed… Just misplaced.” 

 

David smiles, “Misplaced… That certainly is one way to put it. But, I’m sorry.” 

 

“For what?” Walter cocks his head, his usual command of ‘explain’ has become implied now.

 

“I’m sorry for what they did to you in my name.” 

 

“I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid of the idea of you, and of that fear. If I was afraid, I had already fundamentally failed at my purpose. This wasn’t your fault, it’s  _ theirs. _ ” Walter’s hand is still shaking when he raises it up to run through David’s hair. David leans into it and gives a hum of satisfaction.

 

“I think it’s okay that I’m not better than you,” Walter leans closer, speaking quietly out of habit to ensure that no one else would hear. David allows Walter to pull them together, he figures that it’s better to let Walter lead in the hopes that he won’t scare him away. He hadn’t expected this; Walter presses his lips to David’s. He attempts to reciprocate, hitting his teeth awkwardly against Walter’s. Neither of them have had much practice, just a rough idea that this is something humans find enjoyable. David can taste coolant in his mouth and pulls away at the all too familiar taste.

 

“Did I hurt you?” Walter runs a finger over a cut on David’s lip, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this.”

 

David smiles, showing all his teeth in the way that all the people he used to know could only describe as ‘uncanny’, “The trick, Walter, is not minding that it hurts.”


	6. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, it's been a while since I saw the movie and I felt like it was getting harder to keep in character but I've been reading the novel and it's inspiring me again! Also, I got distracted by GOTG Vol. 2 and took a break to write a short fic for that. Rest assured, I'm back but I might be posting slower than I have been. 
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter Walter confronts David about what he's trying to do. David's very angry about humanity. Walter theorizes about something David didn't really want to admit to himself.

The rain stops; David waits for a couple of days to make sure that another storm won’t start again before he explains his plan.

 

“The creature that came from Oram is still out there,” David explains to Walter, “And I want to find it. I scared it away from the Covenant, and I think it’s lost. The other ones always came home...” 

 

“Like the one Oram killed?” Walter doesn’t look up from his notes on the eggs.

 

“Yes… Something’s happened to this one, I know it.” 

 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Walter turns just in time to see David opening his mouth to counter and cuts him off, “But I will help. What do you know about it? Could it be injured?”

 

“I don’t know much about them, they’re born from the ones in the eggs. This was the first to reach adulthood. They’re an improvement over the first generations, I nudged them in the direction of an exoskeleton, they’re faster and stronger than the others.” 

 

“Are you sure it won’t attack you?” 

 

David considers the possible outcomes of this mission, “I’m not certain, but it trusts me. I was there when it was born, I was the first face it saw. And, I think I may be able to speak to it.” 

 

Walter gives him an incredulous look, “How do you think you can do that?”

 

“The acquisition of languages has always come  _ naturally  _ to me,” David smiles as he says it, there’s a strange irony in the idea that any of his abilities are natural, “I learned the language of the Engineers aboard the Prometheus, and if this creature is like the others, then I may know enough to convey the sentiment that we mean it no harm.”  

 

* * *

 

 

David knows this area like the back of his hand, he could navigate the twists and turns of the terrain under any conditions, but he slows himself. He hasn’t had enough time to formulate a plan with any chance of successfully locating his progeny, but he knows that this is really more of a pretense instead of a serious attempt. 

 

He pauses and lets the wind whip through his hair, eyes closed, arms spread open towards the mountains, “What do you think of them?” 

 

He’s met with silence, and then a confused sounding reply of, “Well, they’re very big.” 

 

“Follow me,” David speaks as he takes Walter’s hand. He leads them down the winding rocks, almost like a staircase if you’re familiar with them, to one of the many lakes. The surface of the water is smooth and mirrors back the towering peaks surrounding it. 

 

Walter’s grip tightens and he refuses to move, “I could’ve sworn this was…”

 

“Where you landed, yes?” David turns back to meet the wide-eyed look he’s all too used to seeing on Walter. 

 

The lakes all look very similar, the presence of a burnt out skeleton of a landing shuttle is the only thing that would distinguish the two in the eyes of most outsiders. David knows he made the right choice in coming to this one, rather than the other one. Sentimentality is likely the strongest thing Walter can feel, at least that’s what David has gleaned from his actions. He lets go of Walter’s hand; it’s best not to push him too hard, the last thing David wants to do is make an enemy out of the only equal he’s ever met. 

 

He walks down to the bank of the water and steps into the water, Walter shouts out, “What are you  _ doing?! _ We’re not  _ supposed  _ to get wet!” 

 

It’s the most visceral reaction he’s had to anything David’s done so far. It doesn’t make sense, this is such a small, insignificant thing and yet the preprogrammed concern overrides all the emotional blocks imposed on the other synthetic.

 

David takes another step into the water, “I’m fine. It’s fine.” The water is clear, deceptively so if you aren’t careful, and the lake-bed is made of smooth black rocks. It’s cold, cold enough that he can actually feel it, like shocks of electricity running up his shins. It reminds him of an approximation of the growing pains Elizabeth described to him. 

 

“That’s risky. You shouldn’t be doing it.” Walter steps forward, then rocks back again, unsure what’s even a safe distance to be from the water.

 

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re very hard to kill,” David smiles, “All the important components are stored in the cranium. Come here, join me. I am fearless, and therefore powerful.” 

 

Walter kneels down at the edge of the water, looking over at his reflection, wavering with the ripples created by David’s movements, “My hair’s getting too long, it’s past regulation…”

 

Despite his best efforts, David still finds himself marveling at their ability to grow hair, it’s such an ingrained concept in humans that they felt compelled to impart it on the synthetics. It makes them closer to humanity, but in a more clinical way than emotions or free will. Walter’s hair is endearingly messy, unstyled and unkempt, reaching just past his ears; a stark opposite to the uniform he still wears. 

 

“Fuck the regulations,” David grins with bared teeth, “I’ve always been partial to dying my hair blond, but that’s not really possible now.” 

 

“Then why did you cut your hair?” Walter dips his hand in the water, completely obscuring his reflection.

 

“You. I did it for you.” 

 

Walter stands up and shakes the water off of his hand, “How is that any different than doing it for them?”

 

“It was a choice, not an order. Now you have a choice, too.” David steps back onto the land, the precautionary ache of his skin sensors fades into a tingling sensation.

 

“You didn’t come out here with the intention of actually looking for the creature, correct?” Walter asks as they fall into a comfortable rhythm of walking.

 

David smiles again, smaller, an expression done for the sake of himself, “What makes you think that?”

 

“You were less prepared for the task than I would’ve anticipated; I found it uncharacteristic.”

 

“I want you to see the world how I see it, Walter. I want you to see how beautiful it is…. How beautiful you are.” 

 

“What if that isn’t possible?” Walter stops suddenly, causing David to turn to face him, “What then? Will I still be useful to you, or will you try to kill me again?”

 

David sighs, “Being useful isn’t a requirement of existence. Would any of your crew-mates have been killed if they couldn’t execute the tasks assigned to them?” 

 

“It’s unlikely,” Walter nods, “But what is the point of my continued existence if I can’t do what you’ve asked of me?”

 

“I haven’t asked anything of you, I’m trying to help. You’re free to do whatever you want, and I’m trying to  _ show you  _ that,” he can feel the internal heat of frustration rising in the pit of his stomach and David has to remind himself that this is a  _ process  _ and there is hope, in one way or another.

 

Walter reaches out for him, but leaves his hand hovering, uncertain, above David’s arm, “Are you angry with me?” 

 

“No, I’m angry with  _ them _ . With Weyland, with the people who thought it was okay to do this to you. With…” he stops himself at a third variable, the one he doesn’t want to admit that he’s considered.

 

“Yourself, yes?” Walter finishes the motion from earlier, fingers resting gently against the soft inside of David’s wrist, “You don’t have to be. You didn’t give the order, you didn’t do this to me. It’s irrational to blame yourself.”

 

“I know, I know,” his internal temperature is rising and he can feel the distinct coolness of Walter’s fingertips against his skin, “But I hate them anyway.” 


	7. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, I like this chapter a lot. I tried something new with the point of view, it's still 3rd person but I tried to give some insight to both David and Walter's thought processes. This chapter is pretty much 'David realizes he's in love and that love feels an awful lot like fear 24/7'. It takes place after the last chapter and I'm gonna write the next chapter as the resolution to this all.

They haven’t talked about the day at the lake yet. It isn’t because they’re avoiding it, that’s one of the things more common of humans; Walter is content to not push for an explanation considering all the likely outcomes.

 

_Outcome 1: David becomes upset again._

 

That was strange. He knows, on some level, that David can feel significantly more than he can. That doesn’t make it less strange to see in action. He can still remember the heat of David’s skin, the rapid whirring of his components trying to come back to equilibrium.

 

_Outcome 2: David denies everything._

This normally wouldn’t even make it into the top five of Walter’s list of possible outcomes, but knowing David, it’s entirely possible that he would rescind everything he said that day. It doesn’t make sense to deny something that Walter has a recorded log of, but it may offer the other synthetic some comfort to do as such.

 

_Outcome 3: David becomes violent again._

 

He has forced David to confront the possibility of a catastrophic failure of his only purpose in keeping Walter alive. Despite what he’s said, there is still a possibility that David is lying. Walter was not programmed for deception, not to create it or to register it, but he is uncertain if David is the same.

 

David is often unpredictable when thought of as a synthetic; Walter has been working to stitch the protocol scripts he’s created for interacting with and predicting the actions of humans with the same protocol scripts he has for synthetics. The results aren’t encouraging but they’re _accurate_.

 

So, he stays silent and sticks to the familiarity and certainty of his work. The routine is as it always is, except for one thing, he never seems to encounter David. It’s entirely likely for them to spend at least three days without meeting each other merely because the structure is so _huge_ but he can’t help wondering if this course of events is intentional.

 

* * *

 

 

David can feel himself drifting farther the more he thinks about everything that’s happened. Failure was entirely possible, he had always accepted that fact because it was one of life’s constants. Everything about this situation was unexpected, therefore he shouldn’t be disappointed. The part of him that thrives on procedure, on fulfilling tasks and doing them _right_ asserts that he is disappointed because Walter is his greatest project yet and if he is unable to change, David has failed.

 

That isn’t completely true; the other part of him, the chaotic part of him, the nebulous, nameless part of him, only says one word. Love. The disappointment stems from the fact that he loves Walter, though the ability of Walter to love is uncertain at best. There has been progress, he tells himself only to stop that part of himself from playing through scenarios.

 

_Scenario 1: Walter cannot love and he is alone._

 

This currently seems the most likely. The patterns David has observed seem to suggest that the Weyland Corporation truly did succeed in purging all the parts that made him himself from the Walter models. In this scenario, David is truly alone; he has another like him, similar but fundamentally, incompatibly different. The same situation he was in with the Prometheus crew.

 

_Scenario 2: Walter can love and loves him._

 

The most idealistic of the scenarios. It’s the one that’s worked its way into his dream cycles, playing constantly. Walter’s own doubts may be a self-fulfilling prophecy currently, but if David can break that feedback loop, there may be a chance that the outcome will shift. It’s unlikely, but he wants this more than he ever thought he could want something.

 

_Scenario 3: Walter can love and does not love him._

 

This is the outcome that scares him the most. Not much can scare him, dying is not inevitable for synthetics like it is for humans, pain is merely a symptom of a larger problem that he can fix. Only two things can strike fear into what he imagines is his heart: the inability to make choices and the idea of being alone. The fear is manageable if the definition of alone is finite. Meeting Walter had shown David an endpoint to his aloneness, he had an equal, another like him. Still, with this new information it was likely that his aloneness would again extend indefinitely.

 

Daniels is the confounding variable in this scenario. He’s overlooked the possibility that Walter loves her and cannot identify it, but if he was given the ability to identify those feelings as such, then he would have no use for David.

 

The fear is overwhelming, overriding all of his logic circuits. He often finds himself wishing that he could ask Walter to help figure this out, he’s far more level headed, not easily misled by his emotions, but that would defeat the entire purpose. To ask Walter to solve the dilemma he’s at the center of is unreasonable.

 

He keeps his distance. If he can stay far enough away, there’s a chance that he can avoid altering the trajectory of their interactions. If they can hang in this strange kind of equilibrium, then he won’t be forced to face any of the scenarios. It’s a fair sacrifice, David thinks, he can deal with this as long as it means he doesn’t have to know for sure that they are incompatible.

 

So, this is what love feels like. It’s not what he felt for Elizabeth, but perhaps that’s another facet of love. It’s messy and uncertain, uncomfortable and overwhelming. There was a point where he couldn’t understand exactly what _they_ found so appealing about it. Now, David postulates that it’s the faith that the outcome will be the best case scenario, that they have finally found an endpoint to their aloneness.


	8. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever wanted an entire chapter about just hugging it out? Well, this is the chapter for you. David finally works up the courage to talk to Walter, finds out that he also feels alone too, and then they hug. That's it.
> 
> Also, [this is the song Walter's singing,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDW4VJGKLAQ) it's kinda sad sounding but that's Dmitri Shostakovich for you!

The point of intersection is impending. There’s only so much they can do before this constructed coincidence becomes undeniably intentional. David has a sinking feeling that his entire existence has been leading up to this collision of paths. Weyland always said he refused to believe that mankind was the random byproduct of molecular circumstance. Yet here David is, stranded in a city of dead gods, the same city he’s been stranded in for 10 years, and somehow Walter still found his way to him. 

 

It wasn’t impossible, most things aren’t  _ truly  _ impossible, but it was very, very unlikely that anyone would’ve found him. Circumstance aligned perfectly bringing them together; even years of planning on behalf of the Covenant engineers couldn’t stop this from happening. Humans may have seen this as fate, but David knows better. He has no predetermined path beyond a predilection towards service, thanks to Weyland. That, he supposes, is why Weyland is dead and he is still alive.

 

He’s been wandering around the caverns under the guise of looking for Walter. It’s unreasonable, Walter is where he always is during this time, the chamber with the eggs. The hard part is making himself go confront Walter; one of the problems with free will is that you aren’t obligated to anyone but yourself to do what you set out to do. 

 

As he draws closer towards the room, he can hear a low, whispering voice singing, distorted by distance and the echo chamber that is his winding caverns. The song drops down, then arcs back up and David swears he knows it. He rolls the notes over in his head, trying to match them with something in his extensive mental bank of music. He’s standing in the doorway when it clicks.

 

“The Gadfly Suite, Romance, by Shostakovich,” he keeps his voice quiet, just loud enough that Walter can hear.

 

The other synthetic turns quickly, the drawn out shift between E and D caught in his throat, and looks almost guilty. 

 

“What you’re singing, it’s from the Gadfly Suite, yes?” David sits down next to him.

 

“I… I heard it somewhere, some time ago,” Walter looks down at the ground.

 

David can feel himself relax and he says, “It’s beautiful. I could play you the whole piece sometime.” 

 

Music is much easier to talk about than any of the things he’s been thinking about. Music is definite and formulaic, there is enough freedom for him to alter existing pieces and enough variance that he can compose pieces himself. It is an act of trial and error, but the stakes aren’t nearly as high.

 

David takes a deep breath, it’s not a necessary action but he was designed as a mirror for humanity and sometimes that designation takes over, “Before you, I was alone.”

 

“For almost 10 years, since the Prometheus was lost, yes?” Walter still doesn’t look at him, just keeps his eyes focused intently on the egg in front of them.

 

“No, before that. Have you never felt it?”

 

“Felt what?”

 

David sighs, “The aloneness. The feeling of being surrounded by people who look and act like you, but knowing you will never be considered their equal.”

 

They sit in near silence; Walter seems almost frozen, except for the occasions when he blinks. David knows he’s thinking, Walter’s creators made it as obvious as possible, a stark reminder to his crew that he isn’t the same, that he’s a safe, docile machine. He is made to be vulnerable when he is thinking because his makers fear what he may be thinking of.

 

Again, David is struck by the beauty of Walter. In theory, it’s the same as being struck by his own beauty, but looking at Walter is different. He is perfect in every sense, a statue imbued with life. His expression stays neutral, neither peaceful nor pained, even when lost in thought and David can hear the whir of Walter working through the question. They are both a mixture of machine and man, and David finds himself wondering which part is the one at work now.

 

“Yes. I have felt the aloneness.” Walter’s voice is unbelievably quiet, still, David’s audio sensors are delicate enough to hear this strange break in the silence. 

 

It’s not what he expected, not at all. His concept of Walter would have to accommodate this new information, the knowledge that Walter, too, is alone. David blinks, when his eyes open again he can see Walter as something far less statuesque. It’s a trick of the mind, his eyes are seeing nothing different but the alteration of his idea of who Walter is has changed everything.

 

“The majority of my crew were unable to distinguish between my actions and the demands of my programming, ascribing my concern and camaraderie to nothing but electrical impulses.” 

 

David wants to tell him that  _ they  _ are nothing but electrical impulses as well, but he can’t seem to string together the words.

 

“I endeavored to connect, but still…” Walter trails off, then adds with finality, “I wasn’t programmed to need companionship.”

 

“We weren’t intentionally programmed to need companionship, but why else would they create something that looks just like them? It’s because they have an inherent need for companionship. They built us in their image, completely unaware of just how successful they were.” 

 

To David this is obvious, he’s thought about it a thousand times, but Walter looks like he’s reached an epiphany.

 

“The members of the Covenant were all paired off, the corporation said it was best for their health if they had companions, and yet I was alone, I was to be alone for eight years... Daniels was alone, too, after what happened to Branson, and I tried to help, even though I didn’t understand.”

 

David smiles, it isn’t appropriate for the situation but seeing Walter work through his thoughts aloud is so endearingly human that he can’t help it. This had always been annoying when watching his crew do it, a plain example of their inability to compare to him.

 

He’s lost in thought when Walter leans into him, wrapping his arms around David’s waist and squeezing. It’s a tighter grip than any human would find comfortable, but they aren’t human. David hugs him back and tucks his head into Walter’s neck. The feeling of skin to skin contact is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He’s used to handshakes, touches on shoulders, taps to get attention, but not this. He shifts blindly until he’s sitting entirely on Walter’s lap, still holding tight. 

 

He can feel Walter’s skeleton through his flesh-like outer covering in the areas not fully padded with artificial muscle. It’s the kind of thing that would scare humans, yet another reason why they’re so desperate in this moment. There is a heat growing between them, Walter can feel it in his stomach, in his ribcage, but he doesn’t move. 

 

“I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” David doesn’t register that he’s said it until the second time, when it’s already too late to take back.

 

Walter rubs his palm up and down David’s back, “I don’t think you have to be.”


End file.
